IOHH 6

“I mean… first of all, I can’t even believe that evil spirits actually exist in this world. But fine, let’s say they do. Still, is it really okay to let humans and those things stay in the same hotel? That sounds dangerous for the human guests.”

“That’s why we separated the buildings. The east wing is for human guests, and the west wing is for ‘entities.’”

The manager added that the central building was used for the lobby and check-in area. He admitted that encounters in shared spaces like the garden were inevitable, but emphasized that the entities rarely left their rooms in the first place.

Still, I couldn’t quite accept the explanation. Just separating buildings didn’t mean those things couldn’t cross over. The fake manager had come to my private room in the east wing just a while ago.

“Is there some kind of barrier between the buildings? Like a magical seal or something? If not, then there’s no real way to guarantee the safety of human guests.”

“A barrier? That’s such a… novel-esque term you’re using. Unfortunately, there’s nothing like that. But incidents like what you’re imagining don’t happen often. Miss Lindetail just had a bit of bad luck, is all. Well, I guess from your point of view, if it already happened to you, it’s basically a 100% probability!”

Sorry for using a term straight out of a fantasy novel. I bit back the sarcasm and stared straight into the manager’s ever-smiling face, unwilling to back down until I got a proper explanation.

“Why don’t things like that happen more often, then?”

“Well, that’s…”

He trailed off, glanced to the side for a moment, then turned back to me with a bright smile. And the words that came next were exactly the kind of thing that would make someone want to throttle him.

“It’s a secret!”

“…Excuse me?”

“If you found out everything about this hotel from the beginning, it wouldn’t be any fun, would it? There are also… security reasons.”

Unbelievable. That was the only word that came to mind. Sure, “security reasons” sounded important. But I had just nearly died because of another guest. Addressing that properly should be the manager’s responsibility. I wasn’t asking for some kind of special reward—I just wanted a logical explanation that would reassure me I’d be safe here.

And it was like the manager could see straight through me.

“Miss Lindetail, you want a reasonable explanation, don’t you? But that’s just not possible. I’m sure you’ve already experienced it while walking around the hotel—strange things that defy logic and common sense. A logical explanation? That’s not going to happen. Because this place… was never meant to make sense.”

“……”

“I admit that might sound irresponsible. So, if you’d prefer to check out now and leave Belvedere, I’ll have a carriage prepared for you right away. But tell me, Miss Lindetail—are you really in a position to leave?”

That smile of his almost felt like mockery. Maybe it was because he was so tall, and I had to look up at him. But the thing was, he wasn’t wrong. I hadn’t even unpacked, so I could walk out the door right now if I wanted to.

The problem was, I still didn’t know the truth about my uncle’s death. And I needed to find out. What had he gone through in this hotel? What could have driven him to take his own life?

“…Then tell me. Tell me everything my uncle went through here. So I can leave this place with some closure.”

“Of course. As the former owner’s only living relative, you have every right to know. But before that… there’s something I need you to do.”

Something I have to do? It was bad enough that I was stuck in this bizarre hotel, and now they were giving me chores? I figured it would be something like sorting through my uncle’s belongings, at most. At least, that’s what I hoped.

“What exactly do I have to do?”

“The former owner passed away so suddenly, there are still documents left unsigned. On paper, this hotel still belongs to him, and I’m just an employee. So, as his only next of kin, you need to take care of them. It’s just a matter of signing a few forms. Once that’s done, I’ll tell you everything about the late owner. I promise.”

Simple, huh? There was nothing “simple” about paperwork—especially not after losing your entire family. I still vividly remembered drowning in documents back then: read, sign, read, sign, over and over again. After a few hundred times, it became unbearable.

And now they wanted someone who had nearly died to deal with paperwork? That was insane. If they couldn’t explain the hotel, the least they could do was tell me about my uncle.

“Why do I need to sign those papers before you tell me about my uncle? If it’s something only I can do, wouldn’t it make more sense to actually convince me?”

The manager paused, seeming to consider my point. Then, without blinking an eye, he replied shamelessly:

“The shock of the owner’s death still hasn’t worn off. While you handle the paperwork, I’d like to pull myself together and prepare to tell the story… sniffle sniffle.”

“……”

As he said that, he even took out a handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes—though not a single tear fell. Like I’d fall for that kind of pathetic acting. He probably didn’t even feel the need to be convincing. In other words, he had no intention of telling me anything right now.

There was no point in dragging out a useless standoff. If that’s how it was going to be, I’d be better off just getting this over with. Trying to persuade someone that stubborn—especially someone this shameless—would be a waste of time. I let out a short sigh and met his eyes squarely.

“You’d better keep your promise. I’m not backing down twice.”

“Of course. I always keep my promises.”

“Alright. Then please show me to a space where I can work.”

When the manager offered to lead the way to the office, I followed closely behind. Fortunately, the office wasn’t in the west wing—it was located just above the central lobby. Just being away from that west building was enough to make the cold, skin-prickling sensation disappear, letting me calm my nerves.

“Come to think of it, Miss Lindetail, you’re oddly composed for someone who almost just got killed by a wraith.”

“…I guess I’m just like that.”

Ever since I was a child, I tended to stay calm unless I was in immediate, life-threatening danger. I didn’t easily feel strong emotions, which led people around me to say I was weird.
Now that I think about it… have I ever come close to dying before?

“This is the office the previous owner used.”

“…This is it?”

The office was nothing out of the ordinary—just your standard, unremarkable workspace. It reminded me of my father’s office back at the Lindetail estate. So no, this wasn’t what had made me freeze in surprise. The real problem was the mountain of paperwork stacked neatly beside the desk.

“There’s no way this’ll get done in a day or two.”

“Don’t worry. They’re not complicated documents. If you move quickly, it should only take a day.”

So this is my fate—drowning in a backlog of paperwork. Just looking at the towering stacks around the desk was exhausting. I wanted to turn and run then and there, but I was more or less forced to sit in the chair. A fountain pen, quill, ink, and sealing wax had all been laid out on the desk. Everything was prepared down to the last detail.

And so, just minutes after narrowly escaping death, I began the hellish task of signing off on paperwork.

***

It must’ve been about six hours since I started. With my concentration at its limit, I let out a long sigh. Normally, I could keep going much longer than this, but all the chaos since I arrived had worn me down. Skipping dinner probably didn’t help either.

“…Ugh, I’m exhausted.”

“Just a little more. You’re almost done.”

Does this look like “almost done” to you?

The pile of documents still looked like it was about to scrape the ceiling. The manager had definitely lied to me. Not a single one of these could be handled quickly. Most of them were legal documents related to hotel operations—mess up even one, and I could end up tanking the entire place.

Of course, around the four-hour mark, I started to nod off and skimmed through documents half-asleep. At this point, the hotel might as well belong to someone else.

The manager had been standing near the door for a while now, smiling pleasantly as if ready to assist at a moment’s notice. Does he really have nothing better to do?
He occasionally helped seal letters or sort documents by order, but that was it. He didn’t assist with the actual approvals at all.

I suppose that made sense. Still, shouldn’t a hotel manager at least offer some advice? What if I signed something I shouldn’t?

“Um…”

I was about to ask him for help when I suddenly realized something—I didn’t know the manager’s name. Neither the fake one nor this real one had ever introduced themselves beyond saying they were “the manager.” It wasn’t a big deal, but calling him “hey, you” all the time was getting annoying.

“Hey, this might sound kind of random, but… what’s your name?”

“Hm? Suddenly taking an interest in me?”

It wasn’t interest—I just didn’t have the energy to deal with paperwork anymore. But saying that out loud felt wrong, so I just nodded vaguely. He shrugged and answered without hesitation.

“I don’t have one.”

And he said it in the most casual tone possible.